Saving Jenn from Perdition... Sorta

"Sis, something has to give." I said in earnest.

Jenn just sat there looking at me with her eye black and swollen, a little cut below her cheekbone oozing blood.

"It's okay, Donny. I deserved it. Brandon said so... I shouldn't have taken the last beer." Jenn, said, still a little out of it.

"No, Sis. It's not supposed to work like that..." I said in exasperation. At 18, I shouldn't have had to deal with this kind of situation.

I loved my older sister, but she was a train wreck. I still remembered what she was like before she fell in with the wrong crowd back in school. Hormones hit her like a freight train, and she went from straight A student to dropout in two quarters. From honor society to hustling money for booze and weed and God only knew what else. Dad tried to keep her on the straight and narrow, but being assertive with women wasn't really his strong suit. If it had been maybe mom would have stuck around longer.

Jenn's nominal "boyfriend" Brandon was the poster boy for dead ends, and the local representative of the bad seed society. Seriously, the dude had a chip on his shoulder the size of Montana, not that Jenn could see that. He kept talking dominant, but showing bully, and she followed him right down the rabbit hole. It wasn't the first time she'd taken a beating because of something trivial, and I'd begun to be truly concerned that she'd never wise up until it was too late.

An "old soul" Dad had called me. I'm not sure how accurate that was. I just did what I had to do to keep things more or less together.

"How are you gonna get to work looking like that?" I asked

"I won't. I'll quit. I'll just get another job." Jenn tendered.

I heard this one on a regular basis. Fired from one suckshit job to take another suckshit job to get fired for not showing up, or showing up high, or showing up too hung over to work.

"Really! When's it gonna be enough, Jenn?" I demanded.

Donald Donaldson. Dad said it had been mom's insistence. She'd been gone since just before I turned one. Last anyone had heard she was living with a couple of guys in Alaska. None of us wanted the details, but Sis was pissed off at her, no doubt. Even though ironically, she was following closely in her slutty footsteps.

Dad was a construction manager, and had gotten a sweetheart deal in Dubai, but wanted me to stay put and graduate high school where we'd grown up. I appreciated that. Sis was nominally supposed to run the roost, but I think both Dad and I knew that there were long odds on that working out. It hadn't.

She was drunk as shit the night the officer dumped her off at our front door. I had to help her inside. The car was totalled and how she'd gotten the trooper to bring her home and not press charges was a miracle. At least I thought so until the following morning when I went to do the laundry and found her underpants from last night, crusted with dried sperm. Thank you Trooper Jones.

How she kept finding new jobs was a testament to how much she wanted the things she wanted. Drugs, booze, ink, and piercings. Every dollar earned went to those things. Nothing to the upkeep of the house. I kept the bills paid from the money Dad sent. I put meals on the table. And finally, that night, I put my foot down about Brandon.

She was nodding off on the couch pretending to watch a movie. I saw her eyes. Pupils dilated, rocking slightly back and forth. This wasn't my sister. I had to do something.

When Jenn woke up she was handcuffed to her bedpost. She was wearing her panties and a nightshirt and she felt like a shit sandwich. She looked around for her phone. She had to call Brandon. He'd take care of things. That's when I came in.

"Hey you little shit, let me go." She started.

"No, Sis." I said. "You're not going anywhere for a while. By the way, work called. You're fired...again."

"Fuck you!" she spat. "Get me my phone. I need to get ahold of Brandon."

"No, Sis. You don't." I said in a tone that made it clear I was pissed off.

"Then get me that bottle of vodka in my top left dresser drawer." She ordered.

"It's not there anymore, Sis. In fact all the booze in the house has been....eradicated." I said meaningfully.

"You wouldn't dare." She hissed.

Suddenly she'd realized that if she were in her nightshirt that I had probably dressed her in it.

"Hope you got a good look, you perv." She spat.

"As a matter of fact, I did. But that's beside the point." I stated, adding "The point is that there are going to be rules, and you are going to follow them."

"Oh. Yeah. Right." She said sarcastically. "Now let me go. Please?"

It was starting to dawn on her that I was serious.

"You are to call me Sir, when addressing me." I stated.

"You're kidding, right?" She replied.

I stood there glowering at her in silence. Eventually I left the room. Twenty minutes later I heard her shouting for me. "Donny! I have to pee real bad. Would you just let me go!....C'mon, Donny!"

She was starting to sound really ragged. Ten minutes later I stuck my head in the door of her room. "How ya doin' Sis?"

"I gotta pee, Donny." She said through clenched teeth.

"What? I can't hear you, Sis." I responded.

"I need to pee, Sir." She said quietly.

"What? I thought I heard you say something, Sis." I replied.

"I need to pee, Sir." She said out loud.

Producing the leash and collar that I'd bought at the pet store. I looked at Jenn.

"Oh, no! You can't be serious." She said.

The collar was for a big dog. Sturdy leather with a hasped that closed allowing a small padlock to secure it. It fit her perfectly and I clipped the leash onto the D ring before releasing the cuffs. I walked her down the hallway to the bathroom. Walking in, I turned around facing away while she dropped her panties and I heard the immediate stream of her piss, gushing into the toilet like a fire hose. She really did have to pee badly.

Finishing, I led her out to the kitchen where I re-cuffed her hands around one of the table legs and made her breakfast. She looked at me questioningly as I poured a bowl of cereal and began to feed her. Not that she couldn't manage herself, but I wanted her to know that I could and would control every aspect of her life if need be. I had had years of watching Brandon push her buttons, and I knew exactly how to get to her.

"Can I have a smoke?" she'd asked when we'd finished.

"What?" I replied.

"Can I have a smoke, Sir?" she corrected. She was starting to catch on.

"Nope." I replied. "Disgusting habit. You're quitting, effective immediately."

She looked at me angrily. "Fuck You....Sir."

I uncuffed her and dragged her back to her room on the leash. I sat on her bed and pulled her the leash downward making her tumble forward across my lap. With my other hand I pulled down her panties and proceeded to smack her ass cheeks until they were both glowing red. I could see part of her pussy and was surprised at the six labia ring piercings, three on each side. I had no idea, but they looked hot and found myself staring.

When I'd finished, I hesitated in letting her up. Looking closely, I could see a trickle of moisture framed by her pussy lips. I shook my head. She was turned on from the spanking. I let her up and flipped her panties over to her. Seeing her from the front I could see not only the rings, but the barbell piercing through her clit. It was fierce.

Embarrassed, she quickly pulled her panties back on, blushing.

I had made my point with her. And for the most part her behavior improved steadily. In a few days a package had arrived.

"What is that, Sir?" Jenn asked.

"A present for you, Sis." I replied taking the gps tracking anklet out and fastening it to her right ankle.

"How does it work, Sir?" She asked.

"I have an app on my phone. If you wander outside the limit area. I get a notification and it starts tracking your position." I explained. She sighed, defeated, and shook her head.

We hit a good routine. She was bratting less and less and was having more good days than bad. We went for walks around the neighborhood most days. I made her wear a furry dog onesie and kept a firm hand on her leash. It was humiliating for her, but at the same time she liked it for that very reason.

She would do something periodically to cross me, but it was never too far over the top. Just enough to assure her of getting spanked. Which I could tell, made her hot. Every. Single. Time

One thing about my sister, was that she had a great affinity for her tats. Only one artist, Marisol, was allowed to ink her and She was a true prodigy. Jenn had a full sleeve on one arm, a couple small works at the base of her neck, A large complex floral pattern on her ribcage in front that ran right up to where her boobs started. And a nearly finished tramp stamp. At her anniversary of three months clean, I surprised her by arranging for it to be finished.

We arrived at the tattoo parlor and her artist came out from the salon. She was a Dominican Mami. Drop dead gorgeous with G cup boobs and a nice round butt. She was also, according to Jenn, a card carrying lesbian, who, Jenn admitted had taken a shine to her and who'd done some of her work on a less than cash basis. Little sis was full of surprises.

When we'd gotten home, Jenn asked if I could put vaseline on it 'cause it was in back and she really couldn't see good back there. I agreed to her request and just before bed she came into my room, hiked up her nightshirt and lay down across my lap like when I spanked her. She handed the jar of vaseline back to me and I carefully dabbed it on until the whole tat was covered. It must have been sore a little because she flinched once or twice and I could see a wet spot on her panties, which I couldn't take my eyes off of.

"Sis?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir." She answered.

"Are you turned on?" I wondered.

"I... yeah. I guess I am, Sir." She replied, much to my surprise.

"You always get wet... you know... when I spank you." I observed.

"I... do, Sir." She admitted. "I don't know exactly why. Spankings hurt, but they also make me incredibly horny."

"What do you do about it, Sis?" I asked.

"I jill off, first chance I get, Sir." She said softly.

"Are you going to do that now?" I wanted to know.

"Yeah, when I get back to my room, I guess I'll take care of it, Sir." She said.

"I want to watch." I found myself saying.

She looked deep into my eyes as if to check if I were serious, and after hesitating in thought for a moment whispered. "Yeah, Sir. You can watch."

We were back in her room. She said she didn't want to get anything on her tat so she was going to have to sleep on her tummy. She slipped out of her panties and took off her night shirt. She turned towards me completely naked. I had never actually seen her tits that clearly. They were truly amazing, nice and big and firm with pert nipples each with a ring through it. The tattoo fresco beneath them framed them perfectly and just made them look all the more inviting. She tugged at one of her nipples teasingly.

"Like what you see, Sir?" She grinned.

We were playing with fire. That much was clear. She lay on the bed more or less on her stomach, her head in the crook of her arm, She brought her uppermost leg up a ways allowing her free hand access to her pussy.

I watched enthralled, as she used two fingers to part her pussy lips dipping them inside and then sliding them up to rub her clit. I heard her breath quicken as she rubbed her own juices slickly against her button with a circular motion. The soft flesh on the inside of her thigh gave a little quiver. I could hear a couple of her labial rings softly click against each other as her fingers returned to her pussy. This became a steady rhythm and soon her thighs were starting to shake as if they had a mind of their own.

Jenn was groaning softly to herself, her eyes shut tight as she concentrated on getting herself off. It was far and away the hottest thing I'd ever witnessed. She was as much fucking her clit against her fingers now as she was rubbing it, until with a low moan she tensed up, her back arching pushing her pussy down hard against her hand.

Suddenly I realized that I'd heard that sound before, but was never aware of what it was. Now I knew that dozens of times, at least, I'd heard Jenn making herself cum.

"Did you enjoy that, Sir?" she puffed, a little out of breath.

"It was amazing, Sis... thanks." I replied.

"G'night, Sir." She yawned sleepily.

I quietly pull the sheet up to cover her to the middle of her ass cheeks, wished her a good night and returned to my room. Sleep evaded me for a while, and my mind kept playing back bits and pieces of what had just transpired.

The next morning, after her shower, I was to redo the vaseline. She walked in from her shower, toweling off her hair, but otherwise buck naked. "Morning, Sir. I trust you slept well?" She teased.

She was doing this on purpose. I could feel my cock responding for me. Trying to keep my mind on other things as she lay down across my lap and handed me back the vaseline container. The swelling had already receded considerably. The redness around the ink slowly starting to fade. I carefully applied an even coating, noticing that she was aroused. I could smell it. Her heady scent intrigued me.

Experimentally I reached down and traced my finger between her puffy pussy lips. I heard her gasp and shudder slightly, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she rotated her hips back and exhaled. I traced a bit harder feeling her labia part ever so slightly as she brought her arms up to cradle her head on my mattress. Again, I increased the pressure and felt her quiver against my exploration. Her breathing was irregular but insistent.

I felt the tip of my finger at her entrance. She moaned softly as I sank my finger into her hole to the next knuckle. It felt incredibly warm and slippery. I had nothing to compare it to but found that I was experiencing a feeling of erotic fascination the likes of which were both novel and immersive. I pulled my finger back and ran it up her slit towards her clit. I felt her shudder as my moistened finger found it, and imitating what I'd seen her do the night before I circled it, and she moaned again.

I added another finger next time, pressing slightly deeper. I felt her pussy spasm and clench softly onto me and paused for a couple seconds before returning to her clit. This time there were words.

"More please, Sir." Came from her in a groan.

Encouraged, I plunged my fingers back inside her sopping pussy and began at first imitating, then improvising on what I'd seen her do to herself the night before. It felt incredible the way her body shook and the noises escaping from her mouth and squishing pussy. Finally, I felt her tense suddenly and she threw her head back and just said "Oh. My. God. Sir." As she came on my fingers. It was way more powerful than what I'd seen her do to herself the night before.

My thoughts were a confused tangle. This wasn't what one normally does with one's Sister. But where was the harm? I told myself that in Dominating her, this was just one more tool I could use. Positive reinforcement is a good thing, right?

The problem was that it became our thing. I'd do her tattoo care and then get her off every morning and evening. And she expected it. If she'd said nothing at all, I still would have known. But I'd figured out a thing or three after the first few times, and now I could edge her for a while and build her to a lusty pitch which resulted in a quivery gushy orgasm that left her out of breath and shaking for a while. So, when that happened, I would just lay down next to her and snuggle her until she was back to normal.

Jenn took to walking around the house in nothing but her collar, and she flirted lasciviously, showing off her body, and teasing me visually. It was obvious that it was feeding her libido, and she was so freakin' hot that there was no way I was going to shut her down.

Another week went by, and the tat was mostly healed. I probably didn't need to do the vaseline any longer but did it anyway, because it had become our excuse for what came afterwards.

"Sis?" I'd asked her as she floated down through the afterglow of yet another orgasm.

"What is it, Sir?" she'd replied. I almost never had to correct her anymore.

"I've been finding that the way you smell down there is...hot. I sniff at my fingers sometimes and wonder to myself if tasting it would be... wrong." I explained.

"No, Sir..." She said in a far-off voice. "Pussy, tastes... wonderful. You remember my tat artist, Sir?"

"Yeah?" I replied. How could I forget a body like that!

"I got this tat... and this one from her." She pointed to the two at the base of her neck. "Even though I was broke, Sir. We...bartered. I spent a weekend in her bed for one, then another weekend for the other. She was...voracious, Sir."

We were silent for a minute as my mind's eye sketched that one out.

"Would you like to try, Sir?" She asked a little meekly leaning back suggestively. "Take a closer look, Sir?" She added with a little more confidence.

I thought what's the difference if it were my fingers or my tongue. It was still just one body part instead of another. So, I did take a closer look, and she smelled of arousal and desire, and I let my tongue softly touch her slit, tasting her for the very first time, and feeling her quiver at the warmth of my mouth. I figured doing the same things with my mouth as I did with my fingers would be a good place to start, and I was right, although I figured out a lot more as I went, and I soon had her cumming in a squirming mess as she pushed my face into her quivering twat.

Jenn's mind spun as her brother's tongue worked her pussy and clit. It felt almost too good. She thought back on the past months since her intervention. How good she felt now compared to then. How Donny had...saved her. Yes, really saved her. She saw that now. How he'd given her back structure and meaning. How he'd been the adult when she'd been the brat. But he'd been pretty patient with her, guiding her steadily out of the fog.

And now that she felt healthy again, she'd enjoyed the way he looked at her. It was why she walked around naked. Because beneath his stern adult veneer, there was a hunger in her little brother. And it turned her on to see it lurking there. It was funny in a way, how gratifying it made her feel. And Brandon. Brandon hadn't even tried to see her. In fact he just picked up and carried on with one of his other sluts who'd taken her place. Then they heard he'd gotten arrested for trying to rob a convenience store.

She couldn't believe she'd been so messed up that she thought she was in love with him. He was clueless as far as taking care of anything or anyone who wasn't meeting his immediate needs. He was a scrub. Not an adult like her brother. And as her orgasm overtook her and she flooded Donny's face with her girl goo. A single word suddenly coalesced in her mind and in the core of her very being. As she came, it escaped her lips. "Daddy!"

I wasn't sure I'd heard her right. Did she just call me Daddy? I crawled up from between her legs and look into her soft eyes. "Thank you, Daddy." She whispered. Yep!

I thought about it for a second or two, letting it sink in. Having her call me Sir was an intentional affectation. A vocal acknowledgement of my Dominance over her. Jenn had quickly learned to adopt the convention or pay the price. But it was always just a little contrived. The way she called me Daddy was a lot more... organic. In fact, I guessed at the sub-text behind it and understood. I think she sensed that.

"Kiss me... Daddy?" she whispered.

Without really thinking about it I brought my lips to hers and felt her tongue enter my mouth, her tongue piercing warm against the tip of my own tongue which answered her instantaneously. I knew she could taste herself on my lips, and that just made it hotter. I brought my hand up to carefully squeeze her breast and tug on her nipple ring.